


Strong Heart

by CagedBirdSings



Series: The Kingdom of Miracles (KnB fantasy AU) [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: But also love and bravery, Gen, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other, These tags are absolutely horrible, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 16:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6995233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CagedBirdSings/pseuds/CagedBirdSings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll sacrifice myself any day, to protect them.”</p><p>Kiyoshi Teppei, one of the five generals of The Kingdom of Miracles, would give anything to protect what he holds dear: including his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong Heart

Kiyoshi stared at the sky, the blue and white hues magnificent and comforting in their familiar glory. The soft, welcoming grass tickled the sides of his face as his body lay amidst the green. His breastplate gleamed in brilliant silver, a few rays of the sun escaping from behind the clouds and shining down on his chest, as if pointing to his heart. Kiyoshi heaved a sigh. The armor felt heavy on top of his lungs. 

He could no longer walk.

A drop of red crawled its way from his forehead into his eye, colouring the blue sky and its pure white clouds in deep crimson. He quickly blinked it away, aided by the protesting tears that appeared in his eye at the intrusion. Then, against all logic and the laws of his body, Kiyoshi flexed his fingers, gripping the air and releasing it in a repeated motion, summoning the strength back into the arms resting limply on his sides. Slowly, he started to move the entirety of his arms, taking distance from the sword on his right. With tightly clenched fists, Kiyoshi raised his upper body from the grass, now coloured with various sized pools of red. The sight did not sway him. Kiyoshi simply sucked his breath, kept the pain from becoming too intense, even if every fiber of his being detested the idea of movement. It was fine, even if he could no longer walk: he would soon be ready to depart. But for now, he would still have to endure. It could be done, he knew.

His left knee, however, was trying hard to convince him otherwise. Kiyoshi couldn’t stop the instinctive shrinking of his pupils at the sight: the broken, flawless white of his bone was visible to him, peeking out through what was left of the skin on his knee, its colour now abnormally pale. The enemy generals were frighteningly strong, and the piece of metal covering the front of his knee had been cut clean off during battle. The injury looked horrid, a stream of muscle tissue trickling down the length of his leg as blood flowed.

Kiyoshi removed the pieces of armor from his left hand, revealing the long sleeves underneath. He gripped the fabric with large fingers, and with a sharp tug, ripped it off. Willing himself to look at the injury while gritting his teeth together, he wrapped the long piece of cloth around his knee, tightly and nimbly, with practiced skill. _Good. That will do._ It hurt, of course it did, but the wrapping had to be tight in order to lessen the blood flow. Though his body was filled with various injuries at this point, bruises, bleeding cuts, fractured and broken bones, this one bled the most. Internal bleeding could hardly be helped, but this he could do.

 With a weary sigh, Kiyoshi lowered his body back on the grass, once again gazing up at the sky. Through the pain and exhaustion, he gave the warmest and gentlest of small smiles.

There was no reason to be mournful, after all. He had brought this upon himself. It was a choice, regardless what others deemed it as, foolish, valiant, both. It was a choice, one his heart and mind had made in harmony with one another. And what mattered is that it was not in vain.

Kiyoshi Teppei, “Iron Heart”. One of the five generals of the Kingdom of Miracles, and the guardian of its fifth and last gate.

Kiyoshi had started as a simple knight, at the early years of his puberty. In retrospect, he thought it might have been a calling. Knighthood was something where his stature could be used for good, where his wish to protect all he held dear truly became his greatest strength. He had never imagined becoming anything more than that, however. Kiyoshi was of humble birth, never raised to lead people or carry himself with regal pride. But in the end, such things never mattered: ever since the beginning of his training, Kiyoshi had put his whole spirit into what he did. He had been praised for his abilities both by his peers and the authorities, and received the title of a knight sooner than he had ever anticipated. He then found himself serving directly under the House of the King.      

Kiyoshi first experienced war when the kingdom went to battle for the sake of another kingdom, one closely tied to their own by trade and blood relations. It was during that very battle when he had protected the former king, successfully saving his life. Not long after, the king’s eldest son took the throne and approached Kiyoshi, with the wish of making him a general and granting him a noble house, along with a fitting title.

“Iron Heart” was the name many came to know him by, during the times that followed. Kiyoshi had openly protested against King Nijimura’s wish at first, uncomfortable with the grandeur. In the end, however, he had agreed: and many were blessed that he had, for Kiyoshi led his people with warmth and a humble heart, and strength of mind that inspired all those who followed him.

And yet, although the sword seemed to fit into his large hands like it had always meant to be there, Kiyoshi remained a pacifist at heart. He was a natural diplomat, with the wish to communicate through words rather than the clash of blades, and he never reveled in the idea of war: an eternal contrast with Hanamiya, his fellow general with a bloodthirst Kiyoshi was never able to comprehend. But Kiyoshi loved fiercely. He was hardly one to spend his time cowering in fear, worrying about the hypothetical scenario of the kingdom being overtaken by the enemy… but if such a scenario ever came to be, he thought, he would be there, armed with a sword in his hand and lessons in his heart, to guide and protect.

Now, that hypothetical scenario had become a reality. After engaging in a final battle with three of the Dark Army’s generals, his body was finally rendered useless. With the immediate help of an expert healer, someone like Mibuchi, or Lord Midorima, he might be able to keep his life. But no one would come, he knew. Kiyoshi’s body lay amidst the green grass, at the tip of an incredibly high, sharp cliff, where nearly half of the city was visible from. The last of the enemy generals had fallen from the edge a few feet away from him, losing balance after the decisive strike of Kiyoshi’s silver blade. The motion had been quick and piercing, straight through the heart. With the injuries his body was covered in, the last swing of his sword had cost him what seemed to be the majority of his life force. The city should be empty by now, as the people escaped through the underground passages into the outside world, guided by the leaders of the noble houses and their most trusted allies, or through secret roads with the generals. Kiyoshi could hear the distant crackling of the flames now engulfing the city, but there were no more cries reaching his ears. He felt content at the thought. _Good. No more suffering. No more cruelty or needless death. No more than this._

Everything had spiraled out of control, the moment they all received the news on Hayama’s death. A terrifying ambush, completely and utterly unexpected: extraordinarily nimble and unfazed by any changes in the terrain, Hayama had been the first to venture outside the kingdom’s borders. Together with his forces, he guided people to safety immediately after receiving the first warning from the watch tower. Then, after getting through the first quarter of the valley’s forest, the enemy appeared in front of them through a sudden, thick shadow; dark magic, likely, _and they were accompanied by beasts_ , the messenger gasped, beasts in twisted forms unlike any of them had ever seen before. Hayama had shouted a simple command, to run, divide and sprint as fast as you can in every direction possible, to avoid the hands of the enemy. He had asked help from no one, armed and ready to face whatever challenge it was that had suddenly been thrown in front of him, though his loyal soldiers remained by his side. Hayama’s fast reaction had saved the majority of the group from their demise, but in return, met his own: three arrows and a spear through his abdomen, as he fought to protect his people.

But it did not end there. According to the messenger’s words, their attackers counted in mere dozen. Dozen, against two hundred of their own. Against one of the strongest fighters of the kingdom. A general, able to challenge horses in speed and power, agile enough to leap through the air with the same certainty others felt while walking on smooth ground. Kiyoshi had seen Hayama take on skilled fighters, easily challenging even fifty at a time, only to be deemed victorious not many minutes later. Always the challenger, a brilliant, sharp smile on his face. As a realization dawned on Kiyoshi, he felt a suffocating pain in his chest, traveling into his throat, silencing him. He would no longer be met with that smile.

No one had ever experienced an atmosphere more strangling, and Lord Akashi had never seemed so regretful of asking someone to _calm down and speak_. Everyone had lost their voices, simultaneously. A sharp snap of Mibuchi’s arrow broke the silence, giving in due to the force of his single-handed grip. As he let it fall from his fingers, Mibuchi let out a pained, high-pitched yelp, raising his hands to cover his face while his legs gave out, inch by torturing inch, until Nebuya’s hands gained enough strength to catch his falling body and support it against his own. All of the people gathered in the hall were experiencing various levels of shock and distress: Lord Akashi had stopped blinking long enough for tears to pile up in his eyes, now wide and strangely cold. Lord Aomine kept swearing loudly in rhythm with his fist, occupied with hitting the court table, and for once, Lady Momoi did not stop him. Lord Kagami shook with fury, kept in place only by Lord Kuroko’s hand on his shoulder. Lord Murasakibara looked as if something inside him had stopped working, as Lord Kise wondered if what he had just heard was simply a very sick, twisted joke. Lord Midorima now rushed towards Mibuchi, trying to help his fellow healer regain his breathing. Hanamiya’s brows were furrowed in what seemed to be anger, talking to himself in hushed whispers.

In that moment, though their thoughts and emotions varied, there was one question connecting all of them.

  _What are we up against?_

It was only when King Nijimura stormed into the room, followed by some of their comrades, when the hall started to function again. The news shared from the watch tower soothed the nerves of no one: the Dark Army moved with incredible speed, numbering in what seemed to be far too many thousands, robbing them from the time everyone had hoped they had. Spurred on by the information, the flow of communication returned, and new tactics started to take form.

“Begin by concentrating on our defense. Our main duty is to protect the city and guide the people to safety,” King Nijimura’s voice echoed in the court hall, determined and austere, silver eyes dangerously sharp. “The generals will take their position along with their individual forces. Try to maintain the formation for as long as you’re able. Each Miracle will take turns between guiding the people through the passages and fighting on the battlefield with their soldiers, there will be three of you on both duties at all times. Advisors will do the same. Are we clear so far?” Everyone in the hall gave their own form of an affirmative answer. “Good. We’ll need a mental link during battle, to keep track of each leader and exchange information. That means _at least_ thirteen people. Akashi, can you do that?”

 “Certainly”, came Lord Akashi’s answer, with frighteningly calm confidence. If Kiyoshi would not have known better, he might have been worried of the pressure and mental strain inflicted by such a task. But Akashi was by far the strongest telepath of the kingdom, perhaps the strongest in the whole world. Everyone seemed to agree that if nothing else, this was something they could allow themselves to be at ease about. Lord Akashi’s eyes were no longer wide and filled with tears of shock, but now held a piercing intensity, as if all of the pain was being turned into power.

A ghost of a smile visited the king’s lips, before he spoke once more. “I was counting on that. A tactician will be linked, as well. Momoi, I’ll leave that to you. Exchange information and tactics with Akashi whenever necessary. The forces here will follow my command.”

There was a pause, before Lord Akashi broke it. “My King, you can’t possibly--“

“I can and will do whatever the Void it is I want to, Akashi, and that’s the end of the conversation. All of you, you’re _my_ people. And I damn sure won’t be escorted out while sitting on a throne when we’re at war.”

A voice with a gentle melody spoke out, protesting with a serious tone. “Shuu,” Lord Himuro said next to the king, the overly familiar behaviour being too natural for anyone to point out. “Without you, there will be no king… I really think it would be wiser to--“

“No,” King Nijimura said, cutting the sentence. “We don’t have the time for this. I’ll be in command of the forces here. I’m counting on each of you to spread this information among your people. That’s the plan, stick to it. Everyone, go take your positions!”

Kiyoshi felt a growing weight in his chest, as he stared at the floor beneath his feet.

 “Don’t you dare,” Riko had said to him, later in the tactician’s room. “I know that face all too well, and I don’t like it one bit, Teppei. If you’re scheming something on your own, I swear…”

“’Scheming’?” He asked, in surprise and disbelief. “No, that’s not what I-- “, but the sentence was stopped as Hyuuga had walked behind him, slapping his head with the book in his hand.

“Who do you think you’re trying to convince, moron?”  Hyuuga’s voice was irritated, the words bordering on a shout. “As if we wouldn’t have a clue about what goes on in that head of yours!” A grunt. “Listen. What they want, is to provoke us. They want to lure the strongest fighters we have and take them out, one by one, until we have nothing.”

Kiyoshi stared at him, pain twisting his features. “‘Nothing’? Hyuuga, innocent people are dying--“

“Don’t think I don’t _know_ that!!” Now, Hyuuga’s words had taken the form of a clear, undeniable yell. “ _I know._ I know, okay? I’m trying to fix it, for Void’s sake. _We all are._ ”

“Well for some reason, I’m not seeing my own effort!” Kiyoshi’s voice was spiraling out of his control, the rarity of it catching his friends off-guard as the words continued running from his lips. “I’m supposed to be there, protecting the city, and you two drag me inside the castle to give a report in the middle of _this!_ There are messengers for this, Kuroko’s spies, I don’t see any other general or head of house here! You’re trying to keep me from fighting! _”_

“Stop, the both of you!” Hyuuga was about to yell in protest when Riko pushed his hands between the two men, their chests clashing as they invaded one another’s space. Her eyes glared at them both in turn, forcing the bodies apart, settling her gaze on Kiyoshi. “Teppei, I… We can’t- won’t keep you, here.  But we need you to promise… to follow the plan no matter what, and to come back to us.” Kiyoshi’s heart gave a harsh tug at the tremble of Riko’s voice and the drops forming in the corner of her eyes.

His brows drew themselves together, voice a gentle call. “Riko…”

Hyuuga gave a frustrated sigh.  “That’s what I was trying to say, you moron. And they’re targeting you. Honestly, if you and your thick skull--“

Riko’s voice rang louder, “We’ve almost seen you die before. If you go running off on your own--“

“Alright, alright. Calm down, you two.” Kiyoshi placed a large hand on the shoulder of both of his friends. He spoke through the lump in his throat, fighting to keep his tone from sounding pained. Instead, he wrapped his words in warm certainty. “I hear you. So I don’t want you two to worry about me.”

Riko and Hyuuga glanced at each other, wordless communication between the tactician and head of the castle guards, though Kiyoshi understood them perfectly. After no more than a second, Riko spoke, uncertain.

“So, you promise…?”

“Sure. I promise.”

Kiyoshi truly thought of himself as cruel. He had never been one to lie, as someone who treasured trust and loathed insincerity, but this time… this time, there were no good choices. War offered no kindness, and he knew that what he had to do was simply to pick the best horrible option, as opposed to the worst. The most merciful, least blood-filled option. He took no joy in lying to his loved ones. But they had kind hearts. Had he shared his true thoughts, he would have caused Hyuuga and Riko to become occupied with worry over him, instead of concentrating on their individual duties with everything they have. Kiyoshi would have none of that. He wanted them to function, to grant them some form of inner peace among the chaos, to help the city and everyone in it. Kiyoshi wished to give his all for that cause, his whole heart and soul, even at the cost of himself.  There were more important things, he thought, than survival by all costs. There were things worth giving your life for. Kiyoshi was strong, and he knew it to be true. He had become a knight, and then a general, in order to put that strength to use. There was no reason for him to stand idly by as his people were being slayed and his city was engulfed by blood and flames.

_I’ll sacrifice myself any day, to protect them._

Their plan did not work.

The kingdom quickly fell victim to the destruction: they were surrounded and outnumbered by an enemy they could not make sense of, and the gates were unable to protect them from the chaos. It became evident that their attackers held vast knowledge, information one could gain only from the inside, but it was too late to linger in the betrayal. Their soldiers were being slayed rapidly, and the formations fell apart. Word said that some of the kingdom’s people were being captured by the enemy. The fire grew larger, consuming everything in its wake as Kiyoshi witnessed the brutal end of his people, his soldiers. Treasured lives he failed to protect, death after death.

Lord Akashi had fought valiantly to keep his word. Linking himself to the various individuals in charge, he gained and shared information through telepathy even in the heat of battle. But nothing had gone as planned: the longer the battle went on, the more the mental links suffered and broke. Whereas most telepaths would eventually grow weary even from _reading_ the mind of one person, Lord Akashi had managed to sustain a two-way link between several individuals with long distances. After many hours of upholding the connections while in the middle of war, however, he had reached his limit.

The battle had eventually led Kiyoshi to where he was now, gazing at the sky, body surrounded by crimson. The leaders of the enemy had indeed targeted the strongest of their fighters, and if anything, Kiyoshi was glad: it had been an easy task to lure the enemy’s generals away, as they wanted him destroyed. It was not enough, but even so, he had managed to lessen the burden of his friends and his people, if only slightly. In the end, Kiyoshi had succeeded in what he set out to do.

 _“Don’t act recklessly,”_ Riko had once told him. _“Don’t throw your life away like it amounts to so little.”_

A laugh bubbled its way up to Kiyoshi’s lips, though pain twisted the sound into a strained exhale.   _I’m fine. Because none of this could ever be called “little”._

 Kiyoshi could feel a foreign coldness enveloping itself around him, invisible ice forming beneath his skin, spreading through him. However, it did not bring forth sudden regrets or a fall to self-loathing. His mind did not work in such ways. Instead, it wondered to the various memories stored inside his heart: the moments of happiness he wished to cherish, as well as the moments of grief, equally important in their lessons.

The moments he spent with his fellow generals were something he valued greatly: their shared title allowed them to bond, and created a sense of belonging. Kiyoshi often found himself training together with the three generals closest to Lord Akashi, joining the friendly contests Nebuya and Hayama would come up with. Mibuchi always took it upon himself to heal any possible wounds on the three, occasionally taking part in the competitions. Though their minds sometimes clashed with one another, the times they spent together were joyful.  They were all such strong personalities, but perhaps that was just another thing they had in common.

Soon after becoming a general, Kiyoshi’s left knee was pierced by Hanamiya’s poisoned dagger. It had been against the rules of the practice battle, but rules had never stood in the way of the “Reaper”. Ever since, a throbbing pain has kept haunting him, a cruel reminder of something lost. Hanamiya had once told him how he had always wished for his death. Kiyoshi gave a wry smile at the thought.

He once talked with King Nijimura, about “taking detours” and “enjoying the scenery“: how their philosophies shared common elements. The young king felt deep gratitude towards him, ever grateful to Kiyoshi for saving his father’s life. As they bonded, they realized there was much they shared, along with a mutual admiration and understanding that kept growing stronger. “I sort of sensed it from you,” Nijimura had said with a smile, “like me, you can’t help but protect the ones you love.”

Kiyoshi thought back to the times of his childhood, when his grandparents were yet to take him under their wings. _“Know your place,”_ his mother yelled, a stinging pain imprinting itself on his cheek. _“You’re never of any use.”_ Kiyoshi had witnessed his mother lose her mind time and time again, eyes filled with fog and pain. What hurt the most was the powerlessness.  It was then, long before glory, when Kiyoshi vowed to gain the strength to protect everyone, so that none may lose themselves to such despair.

He could vividly recall the day of Hyuuga’s and Riko’s wedding, the pride he felt while holding their rings. The entirety of the royal court had gathered to the ceremony, to witness the wedding of two of its members. A crown of flowers graced Riko’s hair, made of the most beautiful white roses, courtesy of Lord Akashi’s garden. Lord Kise had gladly offered his help with picking the wedding dress, overjoyed by Kuroko’s request for his assistance. Kiyoshi had feared for the condition of Hyuuga’s heart as his bride walked through the long hall, dressed in silk and lace as they waited for her, both in their formal wear in front of the king. Hyuuga’s handsome features were softer than Kiyoshi had ever seen them before, while Riko’s soul seemed to glow brightly in her eyes. Kiyoshi loved them both, and he had always wanted the best for them: and that wish had indeed come true.

_Ah… I miss them already._

Kiyoshi was filled with bittersweet warmth, rivaling the coldness enveloping his body. The clash of temperatures caused him to tremble, and his breathing grew labored. The effort of his beating heart bled to the ground in small crimson rivers. Kiyoshi kept his eyes on the sky arching above him, forcing a painful inhale, when a small shadow flew across his vision, landing next to him. Kiyoshi managed a shaky smile at the sight.

“Hey… I’ve been waiting for you, Corvo.”

What he had waited for was finally here. A black, fine-feathered raven stared at Kiyoshi with patience in its gaze. Corvo was Kuroko’s companion, a trusted messenger of the head of spies, and a friend who had helped Kiyoshi many a time in the past. In silence, the raven drew close enough to be touched. Kiyoshi eased his fingers into the small space between his chest and breastplate, taking out the scroll hidden there. It had survived unharmed, even in the face of battle.

Kiyoshi presented the paper to the raven with shaking fingers. “Sorry, but could you take this to Kuroko for me? It has everything I want to say… so I want it to reach them. He’ll know what to do with it.” For a moment, Corvo seemed to hesitate, head turning as it took in Kiyoshi’s condition. Then, it wrapped its feet around the scroll, careful in its movements.

Kiyoshi smiled. “Thank you. Say hi to everyone for me. It’ll hopefully take a while before I see them again.”

The raven stayed still as Kiyoshi spoke, as if waiting for him to finish. Then, it flapped its wings and took to the skies, moving with familiar stealth and silence. Kiyoshi watched the small shadow disappear into the vastness of the sky. He could almost swear that a certain, smooth voice was knocking on the door of his mind, but he no longer had the strength to answer. Relief turned into exhaustion once more, and this time, Kiyoshi let it envelop him without resistance. Even now, he could see the people he cherished, their faces etched into his heart.  

_When I meet you guys again, I’ll give a proper apology. And then you’ll hit me, probably._

_Because I’d do this all over again._

Kiyoshi closed his eyes, an eternal smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I’d like to express my repentance. I hurt everyone I love in this fic, and I actually shed tears a couple of times while writing it. But don’t worry: Kiyoshi’s soul (along with Hayama’s and the rest of the souls lost in battle) will travel to the Hall of Spirits, where he’ll get the rest he deserves. When the time comes, he’ll reunite with everyone, either as a spirit or as a reincarnation. They’ll certainly see each other again, in time.
> 
> This fic was inspired by J. R.R. Tolkien’s book, The Silmarillion, or more specifically, a chapter from said book, called “The fall of Gondolin”. Aside from the main scenario, this story doesn’t follow the book or do it any justice for that matter, and I warmly recommend all Tolkien enthusiasts and/or lovers of fantasy to read this wonderful classic!
> 
> That being said, I plan on writing KnB fantasy AU stories in the future, taking place in the universe that’s briefly presented here, as I develop the idea further. I can already promise that they will be happier ones, though (this was very much of a test run)! I hope you enjoyed this journey, and thank you for reading.<3


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